If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
Sico glanced around at the on progress cattle farm, and know that this place will become the next important place after the farms. The place were slowly coming together—slowly but surely, he hope that with this cattle farm build, there will be a stable supplies of meat for them.
The next day when the sun was already climbing over the horizon when Sico set out the next morning, heading toward the Minutemen's power armor squad base. After spending the previous day working on the cattle farm and discussing long-term sustainability with Jenny, it was time to check in on another vital part of their growing faction—power armor team.
The power armor squad had been formed as a direct counter to the Brotherhood of Steel's elite teams. Sico knew that sooner or later, a confrontation with the Brotherhood was inevitable. Their expansionist ideology didn't sit well with the Minutemen's goal of a free and independent Commonwealth. If the Brotherhood decided to make a move, they needed to be ready.
As he approached the base, he could already hear the sounds of machinery and metal clanking against metal. The Minutemen had repurposed an old pre-war house into their power armor headquarters. Inside, soldiers worked on their suits, fine-tuning servos and adjusting hydraulics. The air smelled of oil, rust, and welding fumes—signs of progress.
Sico stepped through the open garage door and immediately spotted the squad's temporary captain, a grizzled veteran named Thomas Graves. The man was in his late forties, with streaks of gray in his dark beard and a no-nonsense expression. He turned as Sico approached, giving him a nod of acknowledgment.
"General," Graves said, wiping his hands on a rag. "Didn't expect you this early."
Sico smirked. "Figured I'd drop in and see how things are coming along." He glanced around at the power armor frames lined up against the walls, some missing pieces, others fully assembled but in need of a fresh coat of paint. "How many people do we have in the squad now?"
Graves exhaled through his nose, folding his arms. "Seventy-seven. We've been training new recruits, getting them used to the armor, but we're still waiting on the factory to churn out more suits. Scavenger teams are out looking for fusion cores, but they're not exactly growing on trees."
Sico nodded, expecting as much. Power armor was a game-changer, but it was also a resource drain. Without fusion cores, even the most advanced suits were just oversized scrap metal. "Any idea when we'll get another batch of armor?"
Graves scratched his chin. "Factory's working on it, but it's slow going. We've got some old suits we're refurbishing, but ideally, we need fresh builds. The scavenger teams have been bringing in parts, but a full suit requires a hell of a lot of components."
Sico glanced at the soldiers working on their armor, his mind already shifting gears. "We also need a proper leader for this squad."
Graves raised an eyebrow. "Thinking of someone in particular?"
Sico hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Albert."
Graves let out a low hum, considering the name. "Not a bad choice. He's sharp, knows his way around power armor, and he's got a good head on his shoulders."
"I know," Sico admitted. "And I've seen him in action. He's capable, and he's got the respect of the others. He's the kind of leader who leads from the front."
Graves shrugged. "Your call, General. You want to make him captain, I'll back you on it."
Sico nodded. "I'll talk to him first. Make sure he's up for it."
Graves smirked. "Fair enough. In the meantime, we'll keep working on getting these suits ready. Brotherhood won't wait forever."
Sico folded his arms, glancing at the rows of power armor frames lining the walls. Some were missing pieces, others stood fully assembled but still in need of fine-tuning. The clanking of wrenches and the low hum of fusion cores charging in their stations filled the repurposed pre-war house, now a crucial military outpost for the Minutemen.
He turned back to Graves. "Oh, Brotherhood will wait," Sico said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "They're too busy dealing with the Institute. That's their real priority. Advanced tech, teleportation, synth armies—compared to us, we're a secondary concern."
Graves let out a low chuckle. "Fair point. Institute's got the kind of tech the Brotherhood drools over. They won't stop until they either destroy them or take it all for themselves."
Sico nodded, his expression turning more serious. "And that's exactly why we need to be more worried about the Institute right now. The Brotherhood's aggressive, sure, but they're predictable. The Institute? They're watching us from the shadows. And sooner or later, they'll make a move."
Graves frowned, leaning against a workbench. "You think they see us as a threat?"
"They will," Sico said flatly. "We're growing too fast. We're organized. We're uniting settlements, fortifying strongholds, training soldiers, and now we've got power armor teams in the works. The Institute doesn't like unpredictability. The moment we step out of line or get too strong, they'll act."
Graves exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "You're not wrong. So what's the play? We just sit around and wait for them to hit us first?"
Sico shook his head. "No. We prepare. We gather intel. We need to know where they are, how they move, and what their next target is."
Graves studied him for a moment, then nodded. "We got spies for that?"
Sico smirked. "Oh, we have one."
Graves replied. "Really? Who is it?"
Sico ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "Well you knew Nora right? The previous General before me, she resign because she has found her lost son. Now her son's at the Institute and Nora has got inside the Institute base, and now give us inside information on the Institute."
Graves grunted. "Oh... Well who really thought, but isn't risky for her?"
Sico shrugged. "Everything's a risk out here. But sitting around and waiting to be attacked isn't a strategy."
Graves smirked. "And now with finally you focus on build the Power Armor squad stronger, to make sure we can hit hard."
Sico clapped him on the shoulder. "Exactly. We're not just defending ourselves—we're making sure when the time comes, we have more firepower to fight back."
Graves nodded. "Alright, General. You tell me what you need, and I'll make sure this squad is ready when you give the order."
Sico exhaled, looking around at the soldiers working on their armor, the scent of oil and metal filling the air. "Good. Because one way or another, war's coming. And I don't intend to lose."
Sico took one last look around the workshop, watching as the Minutemen engineers and soldiers continued working on their power armor. They weren't just a ragtag militia anymore; they were becoming something more—something powerful. And they'd need every bit of that strength for what was coming.
He turned back to Graves. "I'm heading out. Need to talk to Albert, let him know he's taking command of this squad."
Graves smirked. "He'll take it well. He's been acting like the leader."
Sico chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I like about him. He doesn't wait around for orders—he gets things done. That's the kind of leader we need."
Graves nodded, wiping his hands on a rag. "Then you'd better go tell him the good news. I'll keep things running here in the meantime."
Sico clapped Graves on the shoulder one last time before turning and making his way toward the exit. The sunlight hit his face as he stepped outside, momentarily making him squint. The air smelled of dirt, metal, and the faint traces of burning fuel from the nearby generators keeping the base running.
Albert was stationed a few miles away at another Minutemen outpost, helping train new recruits on power armor operations. The trek wasn't long, but as Sico walked, his mind raced with thoughts about the future.
The Minutemen had come a long way, but the threats against them weren't going away. The Institute was still out there, watching, planning. And the Brotherhood, while occupied with their own battles, wouldn't ignore them forever. The Commonwealth was a powder keg, and sooner or later, it was going to explode.
By the time he arrived at the training grounds, he could already hear the telltale sounds of power armor servos whirring and heavy boots stomping against the ground. A group of Minutemen trainees, each clad in various patched-together power armor suits, were going through drills. At the center of it all stood Albert, barking orders as the recruits maneuvered through an obstacle course designed to simulate battlefield conditions.
"Keep moving! Don't rely too much on the armor's strength—use it to enhance your own abilities!" Albert's voice rang out over the sounds of metal clanking. "If you get stuck, you're dead! Adapt, adjust, and push through!"
Sico crossed his arms, watching for a few moments. Albert was actively demonstrating, moving alongside the recruits, showing them how to utilize their suits efficiently.
After a few more minutes, Albert caught sight of him and jogged over, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool breeze. "General," he greeted, standing at attention for a brief second before relaxing. "Didn't expect you here today."
Sico smirked. "Figured it was about time I checked in. Besides, I've got news for you."
Albert raised an eyebrow. "Good news, I hope?"
Sico nodded. "Depends on how you look at it. You're in charge of the power armor squad now."
Albert blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Wait… you're serious?"
Sico chuckled. "Dead serious. You doesn't have to be the special advisor of the Minutemen anymore, but you still have to help me on doing paperwork."
Albert chuckled at Sico's words, shaking his head in amusement. "Yes, sir!" he said with a laugh, clearly not expecting this promotion but taking it in stride.
Then Albert groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically after he hear that he still helping Sico on paperwork. "Oh, come on, General. You're giving me all the responsibility and none of the fun?"
Sico laughed. "Trust me, I need the help. If I have to sit through one more supply report by myself, I might just lose my mind."
Albert grinned. "Well, can't have that happening. Fine, I'll do my part. But don't expect me to get all neat and tidy with it. My handwriting's worse than a Brahmin's backside."
Sico smirked. "As long as I can read it, I don't care."
The two shared a brief moment of levity before Albert's expression turned more serious. "Jokes aside, General… thanks. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Sico said, clasping his shoulder. "That's why I picked you."
Albert nodded, a quiet determination settling into his stance. He turned back to the recruits, watching as they struggled through the course. "We've got good people here. Rough around the edges, but they're learning fast."
Sico followed his gaze, observing the trainees as they pushed themselves through the grueling drills. Some stumbled under the weight of their armor, while others were learning how to use its strength to their advantage.
"They'll need to," Sico said. "We don't have the luxury of time. The Institute isn't going to sit back and let us build up. The Brotherhood isn't going to ignore us forever. If we're not ready when the time comes, we'll get wiped out."
Albert exhaled sharply. "No pressure, huh?"
Sico smirked. "You can handle it."
Albert chuckled. "Guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"
"Nope."
Albert sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "Alright, General. You got yourself a power armor division. We'll be ready when you need us."
Sico clapped him on the shoulder again. "Good. Because that day is coming sooner than we think."
Then later on the evening, Sico sat in his office at the Minutemen HQ, surrounded by stacks of reports, maps, and notes scattered across his desk. A small oil lamp flickered beside him, casting a dim glow over the worn papers.
Sico sighed as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The flickering light of the oil lamp cast long shadows across the room, giving everything a dim, almost eerie glow. He glanced down at the seemingly endless stack of papers in front of him—supply requests, recruitment reports, power armor maintenance logs. The logistical side of running a militia-turned-army was a nightmare, and he wasn't sure how Nora had managed it before him.
With a groan, he picked up his pen and started going through the documents.
Alright, let's see…
The first report was from one of the outposts near the western edge of the Commonwealth. It detailed a recent skirmish with raiders—nothing major, just a small band trying to loot a caravan under Minutemen protection. They were dealt with swiftly, but the report emphasized the need for more patrols in the area. Sico made a note to allocate more men to that region.
Next was a supply requisition from another settlement. They needed more ammunition and medical supplies, which wasn't surprising. With the Minutemen's growing influence, more people were turning to them for protection—and with that came more responsibility. He scribbled his approval on the request and set it aside.
Half an hour passed as he worked through the stack, signing off on orders, making adjustments where necessary, and mentally cursing how much of his job involved paperwork.
Then came the worst part—inventory reports.
Sico let out a long sigh as he flipped through the pages. He hated these. Numbers, numbers, and more numbers. How many fusion cores were available? How many sets of power armor needed repairs? How much food and water was being distributed to the settlements under their protection? It was necessary work, but it was also mind-numbing.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling exhaustion creeping in.
This is why I made Albert help me with this crap.
A knock at the door made him pause. "Come in," he called, setting his pen down.
The door creaked open, and Albert stepped in, looking just as tired as Sico felt. He held a small stack of papers in his hand. "Figured you'd still be buried in this mess."
Sico smirked. "You figured right."
Albert walked over and dropped the papers onto the desk. "Got the latest reports from the power armor division. Training's coming along well. We should have more units fully operational soon."
Sico nodded, glancing over the reports. "Good. We're going to need them."
Albert grabbed a chair and sat across from him, stretching out his legs. "How's the rest of it going?"
Sico snorted. "It's paperwork. How do you think it's going?"
Albert chuckled. "That bad, huh?"
"Worse," Sico muttered. "If I have to read one more supply report, I swear I'll—" He stopped mid-sentence, rubbing his eyes. "You know what? Never mind. Just know that if I go crazy, you're in charge."
Albert grinned. "Oh, great. So when you finally snap and run off into the wasteland, I get to deal with this mess?"
"Exactly."
The two shared a laugh before Albert leaned forward, his expression turning more serious. "Jokes aside, Sico, don't push yourself too hard. I know we're in a tough spot, but if you burn out, the Minutemen are screwed."
Sico exhaled, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Yeah… I know. It's just—there's always something that needs to be done. Always another crisis, another report, another decision."
Albert nodded. "And there always will be. But you're not alone in this. You've got me, you've got Graves, you've got the whole damn army backing you. You don't have to do everything yourself."
Sico stared at him for a moment before finally nodding. "Yeah… yeah, you're right."
Albert smirked. "Damn right, I am. Now, finish this up so we can actually get some rest. You look like you haven't slept in a week."
Sico chuckled. "Feels like it."
Albert stood up, stretching. "I'll be in the barracks if you need me. Try not to drown in paperwork."
"I'll do my best."
As Albert left, Sico leaned back in his chair, staring at the pile of unfinished work. He sighed, picked up his pen, and got back to it.
________________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-